


Bright Abyss

by Monsterunderkilt



Series: The Manse [31]
Category: Actor RPF, Celebrities - Fandom, RPF - Fandom, Real Person Fanfic - Fandom, Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:54:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27529546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monsterunderkilt/pseuds/Monsterunderkilt
Summary: Jon, Stephen, and I discuss physics and Sir Ken plumbs the depths of my soul.
Series: The Manse [31]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1209447
Kudos: 1





	Bright Abyss

Sitting out on the little balcony of Stephen’s Guesthouse apartment, I take deep, hungry breaths of fresh air as the sun, like a neon button sewed to the fabric of the sky, begins to edge toward the horizon. Jon, a Buddha-smile warming his face even more than the sun, is in the wicker armchair to one side of me, staring into the bright abyss, fingers slowly rubbing the cool sweat on the side of a glass of orange juice. It’s fresh-squeezed by Stephen himself. I take a slick sip from my own glass. Liquid health and purity, sweet as life and tangy as an adventure.

Stephen comes outside with his own glass and sits on my other side, settling in and putting his bare feet up on the little coffee table. He lifts up his sunglasses and winks as me before he takes a long gulp and sighs.

I give him a smile, then turn to Jon and blow him a wee kiss. We all bask in the amniotic silence.

“You know...” I say, in not much more than a loud whisper, “Trillions of years from now, when the universe expands so much that the space between atoms becomes too great for interactions to occur, and the vibration that creates heat just melts away, and even the subatomic particles break off and spread out like too little butter on too much bread, memory will forget itself, everything will be equal and nothing can happen.”

I continue to gaze out at the horizon, feeling both sets of my men’s eyes boring into me with bemusement.

“We’ve gotta watch her, Jon. Just be on the lookout that Neil Tyson doesn’t recruit her into his sex cult.”

“You’ve been watching too many episodes of The Vow, Stephen, I’m cutting you off.”

“No but seriously, you guys... it’s the most comforting thought in the world if you ask me.”

Stephen reaches over and casually tugs as the hem of my short shorts, trying to peek up the inside of my thigh—

“Stephen!” I say, slapping his fingers away.

He shrugs and widens his eyes at me. “Hey, I’m just checking to see if you got branded on your hoo-hah like all those Nxium freaks.”

I roll my eyes and drink more OJ. “Forget it.”

“No, no, please edify us,” Jon says, then shoots a look at Stephen. “Neil isn’t a sex-cult type anyway. He’s more of a mountaintop telescope commune hippie.”

Stephen nods. “Sounds about right.”

“ _Anyway_ , as I was saying... the universe’s heat death just reminds us how radically fortunate we are to exist in this eye-wateringly minuscule period of time during which the universe is not too big-bang hot or expansively cold, and for that, we should be thankful for thoughts and feelings, because without the more tangible matter vibrating enough to generate these ineffable concepts, they do not exist at all.”

I watch Jon nod, squinting up at the darkening sky as he considers these facts. “Wow... my brain just experienced heat death.”

Stephen places his hand over mine and squeezes, drawing my attention with a kind, reverend-like smile. “Jesus loves you despite your blasphemy, young lady. And so do I.”

I pick up Stephen’s hand and kiss his knuckles, one by one. “I know you’ll put in a good word for me whenever I get to the pearly gates.”

“Hey, who’s that out there?’ Jon asks, pointing.

We all study the lone figure strolling along the edge of the water on the beach before us.

“Sir?” I whisper to myself, watching as my husband slowly steps barefoot across the sand, jeans rolled up past his calves. He’s gazing down at the ebbing and flowing water, sometimes bending down to pick up a rock or shell or beach glass.

“Is that Kenneth?” Jon says.

Stephen nods. “The man has some fine gams, indeed.”

“You would notice his gams,” Jon says.

“Of course, _Jon_ , because I’m not oozing with so much toxic masculinity that I cannot appreciate another male’s assets.”

Even from this distance, I find I appreciate everything about our dear K Bran, and I get up to go intercept him.

“Hey, where are you going?” Stephen asks as I descend the balcony steps down to the sand.

Jon waves his hand. “Let her go to him. She’s been holed up with us for days celebrating. She probably misses that rich velvety Shakespearean aura he exudes.”

“Our aura is just chopped liver, then?”

“I’ll soak up your auras later, boys!” I yell over my shoulder as I jog away.

Ken spots me as I jog nearer, and I see that trademark warm disarming smile dawn on his face. He rubs his hands against his jeans to dry them and then holds them out toward me. I laugh as I pick up my pace, and the liquid heat of a few tears blur my vision. Just as I reach him, my foot slips a little in a squishy spot in the sodden sand, but he catches me and I laugh out more happy tears. I latch on to him tightly until I feel I’ve regained my composure, but as soon as he touches my cheek and he catches my gaze, my knees almost give out. His eyelashes flutter as his face dips toward mine, as if tiny butterflies are leading him to kiss me. I cannot even catch my breath before he takes it away.

A gust of wind swirls around us, and if Ken weren’t supporting me with his embrace, it would have knocked me down. I look up at him, finding delicious irony in the fact that I fell for him over his sugared words, but even without a single utterance, he still manages to have this swooning effect.

“You feel lighter,” he says softly, deepening his register to make himself heard despite the breeze.

I smile. “Well, that’s because the reality show of the presidency will come to an end soon and we’re all very relieved.”

He nods and holds my wind-whipped hair out my face and squints at me. “That’s definitely part of it, but there’s something else as well, I think.”

I absently rub the short hairs at the nape of his neck as I give it a think. “Hmmm, early Christmastime?”

“Perhaps.”

“Also... there’s more laughter now.”

Ken presses the tip of his nose. “That’s it,” he says, eyes flicking up in Jon and Stephen’s direction. “They’ve helped you. I’m grateful for that.”

“Why because I was such a sad sack dump for a while there?”

“Yes, you were a sad sack dump,” he says with a giggle. “Oh come on, don’t be so hard on yourself, Cait. Not everyone has a naturally cheerful baseline temperament, you know.”

My mouth trembles with a joyful vulnerability, and I know for the first time that he is one of the best Manse husbands, for they know exactly how to read my soul out loud to me. “I love you, Ken. I don’t say that enough.”

“Then each occasion carries greater weight.” Still holding me against him with one arm, he reaches his other hand into his pocket and fishes out a heart-shaped shard of shell. He flips it around so I can see the silky mother-of-pearl shining on one side. His eyes sparkle with a slight welling of tears. “Don’t penguins give their mates little tokens like this?”

I steal a quick but solid kiss before I laugh again, taking the shell between my fingers. “They sure do. For their nests.”

Ken kisses me back and takes my hand, leading me to walk with him further down the beach. “Let’s head back to the nest, then. I think there’s a storm about to blow in.”


End file.
